Ice Ice Baby...

So far, so good. The resolution for a post a day is going well!

Today, having had a very lovely 'date' day, the boy and I finally went ice skating. I mean, it's only been there since the middle of November, so it felt like an achievement to actually don the horrific complimentary blue ice skates and imagine myself as the better half of the next Torvill and Dean. Having had a slight stress at realising I had the dead weight of my Kate Moss for Topshop bag slung on my arm and not enough change for a locker (it would have definitely either killed me, or a small child, or both, had I taken it on to the ice...), the lovely woman behind the counter offered me a locker for free, having taken pity on myself and my lack of preparation. Unfortunately, my haste to get on to the ice meant I forgot both my packed socks (I was slightly prepared...), my camera and my gloves, meaning I had cold feet and hands and nothing to take my anticipated wintery snaps with. Oh well!

Despite the little hiccup in my plans, the skating was fab, and I didn't fall over once, even though I had many near-collisions with children and chavs alike (I'm a pro you see...). However, I hate to admit that a five year old put my skills to shame. Whilst I skated round hand in hand with the boy (both for the niceness of it and to prevent some over-enthused teen knocking me over), this tweenie child was skating round by herself, and she was actually amazing! I was slightly jealous at both her young bravery and her skating boots (she had the nice white ones I've always dreamed of). I really hate the plastic blue skates they always provide you with at rinks. For a start, they're horrific looking and so uncomfortable, what with those three belt-like straps holding your feet in like a straitjacket. Given that ice-skating is ultimately an elegant sport, it's difficult to comprehend why they give you the equivalent of breeze blocks for your feet. It's like giving ballerina's Doc Martins rather than pointe shoes. It kind of defeats the object...

Dream skates. The ones the ice rinks should provide you with rather the tragic plastic alternative.

 Moving on from my skate snobbery, I have to profess that I really do love ice skating. I always imagined myself as a figure skater, and as a child I was convinced I'd be alright at it given that I did ballet and all that jazz. However, this dream was taken away from me because I was brought up in the middle of nowhere that lacked an ice rink, and so my dreams of lycra were dashed and so we will move swiftly on...

I'm still convinced that this could have been me...

 Ice skating to me just seems so romantic. I love the idea of Victorian ice skating, where the men and the women met in their Sunday best. I bet it was a right dating hotspot...

All the single ladies... I'm loving the fur hats, I've ordered a vintage one just like them (kind of).

One of my favourite books from my childhood, Tom's Midnight Garden, is probably responsible for my idealistic view of ice skating: when Tom and Hatty used to meet at the midnight chime of the grandfather clock and skate on the frozen lake - him using her Victorian skates. And the endless images of the ice rink in Central Park always make me want to go ice skating and be in NY. I tried to find the ice rink when I was there in June, but unfortunately the Summer season was against me and sadly it was not to be found.

All this ice-skating talk is making me want to don those plastic skates and go again. The only thing stopping me is the realisation that unfortunately, there will forever be chavs and children alike on Newcastle's rink, which just is not big enough to cater for my taste. If I had my way, I'd have a whole ice rink to myself. Like this:

I love this image. An empty ice rink makes for perfect skating. I bet no chavs skated into Mrs Hobson...

 

 

 

 

Or, I'd just live in New York, where the ice rink is huge and big enough to avoid those pesky collisions...

But regardless, I did love my skating session today, and if I can convince the boy to part with another £16, I'm sure he'll take me again. Or at least take me to NY for the Central Park rink! (I jest. Well only slightly!) Given that we both sadly return to work tomorrow, ice skating was a lovely end to the festive period and we had a fab day. And now we're about to bake, with my Christmas tree cookie cutter (I refuse to let go of Christmas, clearly). Oh how I love date days...